All The Wrong Topics dot com

the 13th

superstitious nonsense when we regard Here the subject of any and all holidays, to which i reply in overwhelming words that we should slay those religious of idiot moral bankruptcy with their trusted saints and sinners alike as these are the new villains and heroes in a modern myth syndrome, and we stay trapped under vague and murky weight as representations of authority under different names sapped by the god complex built up of all our mental escapades and opinionated ways… this is not to be a tyranny of the soul forever as there are many Here among us who think that life is but a joke, and the ideas are always changing places as the trivial creatures reorient themselves to understand better the flawed system that has made itself capable of eliminating certain problems while retaining the ones that would make the most painful difference if solved today, there are bogeymen everywhere in the nowadays where you cannot even see the face or reveal the truth without a dark cloud hovering overhead low and wet from the rain… and it is a rain supreme, by god, when the acid hits your face like a packaged deal filled with chemicals that should not be engorged on this watery medium with its viral droplets reign falling faithless to still the wounded crying in their graves… these are some of the excited symbols that trend us as we dodge to figure out an accurate means to an end, an idea of what works for us as individuals among the massive group effort that the social dark matter is pulling us to be responsible for, and it is an ability to respond with the proper follow-through when the action is now called for that makes us the adults and bastions that we crave to be when in youth it seems so spectacular to be this human doing in motion… we might look to the cosmos to direct us through its grand clockwork of synchronicity as though we are but merely instruments of fate without the hand of gods to cushion our fall to earth, but the cruel stoned work of the radically spaced out oblivious do carry no detour of devout practice toward uplifting any potential to the rest of the multitudes gathered and so collected, as fear embezzles our ideals by the pound or the dollar or whatever stray denomination into your pocket in this religious economy of currency spreading faster forward than reason or logic are capable of catching up to those prophets that have originally lead us astray in the first place… preachers of the values in walled-up streets and caved-in retreats chanting in ways that charge the magic with their weak personal signs and symbols of wealth and plunder even as the human resource has been slightly faded by the betrayal endeavor that fits so easily into the devil’s gauntlet with a firm grip on control over this humanity’s whole… the science in repetition, despair and experimental roulette wheel revolutions in trial and error rapid if you’re lucky enough to have arrived Here at the right time perhaps, but only then is it appropriate to a degree repossess the fate of free will as destiny by increments and even into that particulate density from which we are all primordially comprised… a segment, very small at best will be able to lead the rest of this mad and raving article left after this indifferent plague of humanity had abated and been restrained with the utmost care, and this is because the compassion we would hold so dear is nothing if there is no flaw for a humane aspect of the original humanity to flare every now and again no matter how dark the horizon may be… clouded by expectant fear in which a judgmental haze can be projected forth by the displaced displeasure of the introverted and incestuous within itself a reverse of the vomit mentally and mechanically that would otherwise have physically materialized to spread an internal flavor overt as it is a bewildering sour splash of the vitriol as the poison drags the dry blood stale, over the clothes and shined, hallucinating treasure shrewd now stained by the gravity inherent in trying to catapult the perfect dream into oneself through the common means to the destination struck with dog-like devotion to god’s gift the abortive and severing tongue lapping over lapsing memories drifting from the lack of connection between those that share the experience as they are separately locked off by stagnant dogmatic drama… each to their own exactly and to the letter, the travesty through display of a fundamental use of cliche under propagandist recycling of fascist ideology and mental topography set upon finding the enemy, and certainly not thanking them for being fair opposition… the violence as defiant art of elimination, as this ideal maintains the age where those that still carry the tediously anachronistic interest of passing on the constantly competing perfection of genes, and this lie consistently blinding us through entertainment… not a perfect theory, but i admit that in all honesty because it stuns me, this world is so oblivious to even those erasing doubts…

Thanks, khet.